


Snapshots

by redhoodedwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After 5a but none of it is really mentioned, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Comes Back, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Kisses, M/M, Stilinski Family Feels, just fluffly fluff, photographer!Claudia, stiles is 17 but not for much longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoodedwolf/pseuds/redhoodedwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tomlinscn said: ok imagine that maybe bc stiles is a Spark, his mom was too, and she ran a werewolf-friendly photography business out of her house (everyone in town went to her for their family pictures) bc everyone deserves family pics. And maybe when she died john couldnt handle sorting the pictures, so he just put them in the attic, and years later stiles finds a box full of envelopes and at least half of them say HALE, and its full of family pics and candids and maybe a video? he gives them to derek ?? pls</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a tumblr prompt and I just LOVED this idea man I love fics where Derek knew Claudia as a kid, and maybe baby Stiles  
> Here's a belated New Years fic!!

            Before his mother passed away, the spare room in the Stilinski house was used as Claudia’s photography studio. Actually, the room was originally the master, but as a couple, John and Claudia decided that they didn’t need a large bedroom and they took up residence in the larger “guest” bedroom. After Claudia passed, John definitely didn’t have reason to have a larger bedroom, so the room became the guest room/storage area.

            Inside of the closet in that room, John hid away all of his late wife’s photography things, including boxes of photo paper and other things Stiles never learned what their necessities were. When he was younger he would never be allowed in the room during photoshoots, but after the client had left, Claudia would allow him to watch her upload her photos. And she called him her assistant because he would pick out which photographs looked best. “But they’re all really great, Mom! ‘Cause you took ‘em they’re amazing!” he told her every time. His mother would always smile and kiss his cheek in thanks for the compliment.

            It wasn’t until Stiles reached his final high school year that he went through that closet again to find his mom’s old camera. For his last semester art credit, Stiles had chosen to take a photography class. His father had lightly suggested over dinner the night before that he could always use his mother’s old stuff rather than renting materials from the school. And honestly, the whole reason Stiles wanted to take the class in the first place was so he could feel a spark of a connection with his mother again, one he felt he’d lost over the last few years. So he readily jumped at the opportunity.

            The first few boxes contained what he needed, but once Stiles settled himself into the closet in the middle of almost a dozen boxes, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave until he went through everything. He caught a whiff of his mother’s old perfume as he cut open a fifth box and it knocked him onto his butt faster than anything. Inside were a few old journals covered page to page in his mother’s writing. Underneath the journals was a small wooden box that Stiles had never seen before. He thought he’d been privy to everything in his mother’s collection, but he supposed not.

            Inside of the hand carved box that was closed with a simple latch, lockless, was a camera lens that after some experimentation, Stiles found, snapped easily onto the old camera. The lens itself was well used. There were a few nicks in the black texture of it, but when Stiles took a test photo, the lens didn’t do anything special to the photo. It didn’t even provide extra zoom. He was about to detach the lens and set it aside right as his father popped his head in the room, slightly hesitant, and his small smile turned fond when his eyes fell on the camera in his son’s hands.

            “I remember your mother using that.” He jerked his chin at the device. “She called it her ‘special lens for special families’,” his father told him. And, well. Stiles couldn’t put it away after that.

            After a quick dinner break before seeing his father off to work for his night shift, Stiles found himself back in the closet to dig through the last couple of boxes he hadn’t gotten through before. Setting aside the camera and still attached extra lens, Stiles pulled out the last two boxes from the far back corner. He snagged the one closest to him, but hesitated before opening it when the last box caught his eye. Written on the outside of the box in his mother’s blocky handwriting was ‘Hales’.

            Stiles immediately lunged for that box and tore it open, not even bothering with the scissors. The box wasn’t that wide and it was pretty lightweight as well, though tall. Once Stiles could see inside of it, he came face to face with a grinning teenage Derek. The photo was printed on regular printer paper and was taped to the front of a manila envelope. On the flip side of the envelope, over the flap was scrawled ‘Derek’s Senior Pictures’. Stiles swallowed heavily. Reaching for the next envelope, it read ‘Hale Christmas 2003’. The next envelope and the next, and the other three were all Hale family related. One even contained Laura’s senior pictures. Stiles had no idea why his mother kept copies of these photos. In fact, Stiles didn’t even know his mother knew the Hales at all.

            In retrospect, his mother knew a lot of people in Beacon Hills. She offered discounted photoshoots and did well enough, so it really wouldn’t be that big of a surprise that the Hales came to her. Derek had met his mother.

            Carefully extracting the photos from their envelopes, Stiles held a wallet-sized photo of Derek delicately in his fingers. He had a sudden flashback of holding the mugshot photo of Derek nearly two years ago and realized dumbly that the entire photo was visible. There was no lens flare from his eyes. Stiles glanced through the other envelopes and found the same thing with all of the photos. None of the werewolves had their faces obstructed.

            Ever since Scott had been turned, Stiles hadn’t been able to get a proper selfie with him or any of the other ‘wolves, which was more annoying than you would think. Stiles loved taking photos of him and his friends doing things, but the eye thing made that very difficult. So how on Earth...?

            Stiles’ eyes strayed over to the camera. He tripped over a few boxes in his haste to stand and get his hands on the device. Stiles caressed his fingertips over the extended lens and closed his eyes, calling his spark to the surface. The small pinch of magic in his veins began to tingle underneath his fingertips, and when he opened his eyes he could see a faint white glow encasing the camera.

            Stiles dug into his pocket for his phone and dialed one of his most frequently called numbers. As soon as he heard the call-connecting click, Stiles shouted, “Was my mother a spark?!”

            There was surprised silence on the other line before Deaton cleared his throat. “There is a high possibility of that, yes. You had to inherit it somehow.”

            Stiles hung up at that and shoved his phone back into his sweatpants pocket, not caring how rude the action was. If his mother was a spark, then she probably knew about the Hales being werewolves. She must have used her magic to craft a lens that would erase the flare from wolf eyes.

            His mother was a fucking badass.

            Stiles grinned widely as he carefully stored the camera in its bag and tucked the detached lens in a side pocket before setting the bag aside. Then his gaze moved back to the box of Hale photos. There had to be a way to get these to Derek. If anyone deserved to have these cherished family memories, it was him. Stiles couldn’t just store them in the Hale vault and wait to say anything about it until a Hale came back. He had to send them to Derek.

            The problem with that was that Stiles had no idea where Derek was.

            Stiles carefully put the photos back into their correct folders and moved the box and camera bag into his room. He then put the closet back together, stacking his mother’s things back in the same way his father had years ago. With one last glance around the room, Stiles basked in that faint whiff of perfume for a second longer before sealing the rom up until they found need for it once again.

            Clutching his phone in his hand, Stiles sent a text out into the void. _Where are you?_

            Over the past eight plus months since Derek left, Stiles had sent him several texts, and none had been replied to. Stiles assumed either Derek got a new number, or Derek hated anything regarding Beacon Hills so much that he didn’t feel the need to respond.

            Granted, none of the texts had been demands for help or a call for a rescue. And this was the first time Stiles had outright asked a question so maybe, just maybe…

            His phone was silent for the rest of the night, sans a few email buzzes. When Stiles awoke the next morning, he found his phone blank of new notifications. Just like every other time Stiles had dared to send a text.

            “Do you know where Derek is?” Stiles asked Scott later that afternoon during a break in their movie-watching day. They only had a week left of their Christmas break and the two wanted to enjoy it as much as they could, and be as lazy as they could.

            Scott raised an eyebrow at him as he took a sip from his drink. “No. Why would I know that?”

            Stiles ducked his head and played with his phone, tossing it back and forth between his hands. “I found some stuff—photos. Of him and his family. And I want to make sure they get to him, I just don’t know… where to mail them.”

            Scott hummed in understanding. “Maybe try Cora?” he suggested.

            “She never gave me her number,” Stiles admitted. Scott looked guilty and Stiles gaped. “Wait, did she give you her number? Rude!”

            Scott rolled his eyes. “I got it from Derek, chill. Here,” Scott pulled out his phone and started typing on it. “I’ll send it to you and you can text her.”

            Stiles grinned. “Awesome, thanks, Scotty!”

            Stiles shot Cora a text the next time Scott got up for a bathroom break. He was surprised he’d held himself off that long, but he didn’t want to ruin their bro-time.

            _This is Stiles. Do you know where your brother is?_

            The surprise of the century came thirty seconds later when Stiles received an immediate response. **How did you get this number? How should I know? Isn’t he with you guys?**

            Stiles eyebrows raised in surprise. _Last we heard he’d gone to South America with you. Months ago. Did he leave?_

            **He hasn’t been here for like two weeks, said he was going home for the holidays.**

            **_Are you okay?_**

            The second text came as a surprise to Stiles who had been halfway through typing a response to Cora and it took him a minute to realize the text had been sent by Derek.

            Stiles forgot about Cora instantly and opened up the conversation with Derek, eager to respond.

            _Yeah dude we’re fine!_ He assured.

            Stiles hesitated and thought over what to say in addition and finally settled on: _Are you in BH? At the loft?_

**_I am as of 20 minutes ago._ **

            “What did I miss?” Scott asked, surprising Stiles. He’d forgotten about Scott. He almost threw his phone across the room at the sound of his voice. Scott just stared at him with an eyebrow raised in question.

            “Uh, Derek’s here. Like, he just got in, apparently.”

            Scott hummed again and Stiles narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You don’t sound surprised,” he challenged. “Did you know Derek was here?”

            Scott smirked slightly. “I got a text from Derek last night asking if we were doing okay. Apparently he’d gotten worried because _someone_ sent him a text.”

            “That wasn’t the first time I sent him a text!” Stiles argued.

            Scott looked surprised at that. “It wasn’t?”

            “No! And he’s never responded before,” Stiles grumbled, curling in on himself slightly.

            Scott pursed his lips. “Huh. Either way, once he was sure we were okay he didn’t say anything else, but I had a suspicion that he was back. Like a feeling, or something.”

            Stiles scrunched his nose up. “That’s weird. But okay, I forgive you. I guess I don’t have to mail those photos, then.” Stiles looked back down at his phone and bit his lip, contemplating. “I’ll go over tomorrow,” he decided.

            Scott smiled. “Cool. You ready for the next movie?”

            Stiles nodded and set his phone aside, choosing to ignore it. “Yeah, let’s continue.”

            After Scott left, Stiles sent Derek one last text. _I have something of yours, I’ll stop by tomorrow._

**_Okay?_ **

            Stiles snorted and smirked. He could practically hear Derek’s inflection through the text. He rode that happy high as he fell into an excited sleep.

            The next morning, Stiles packed the camera bag and the box of photos into his Jeep and drove the familiar ache of a ride to Derek’s loft. Parking out front, he took the same parking spot he always did, right next to Derek’s Toyota. It was a bit difficult to juggle the box in his arms and walk up the six flights of stairs to get to Derek’s door. But he eventually made it, only to find Derek, hip cocked against the open doorway, raking eyes up and down Stiles’ form, an eyebrow raised. Stiles may have tripped slightly at the sight of the older man for the first time in months.

            “Morning,” Derek spoke softly, and Stiles felt something else inside of him trip at the calm and relaxed tone he used.

            “Hey.” He may have sounded slightly breathless, sue him. He just walked up a bunch of steps, he could totally be winded from that.

            “Whatcha got there?” Derek asked, nodding his head towards the box in Stiles’ hands, and then the camera bag slung over Stiles’ shoulder.

            “I found something,” Stiles said as he passed Derek and headed into the loft.

            “So you said in the text.”

            Stiles rolled his eyes. “I found it in my mom’s room, with her camera stuff.” Stiles waved the camera bag slightly.

            Derek’s face morphed from confusion a moment later into enlightenment. His mouth fell into a ‘o’ shape. Stiles flipped open the box and gestured for Derek to come closer.

            “I don’t know why she saved these, but it’s a good thing she did. Maybe she felt-- well. I thought you should… have ‘em…” He spread his hands out and stepped back so that Derek could peak into the box. Derek shuffled closer and Stiles could see his hands shaking slightly.

            “I remember your mom. I’d forgotten,” Derek breathed, as he reached for the first envelope and pulled it from the box. The look of awe, fondness, and sadness that crossed over Derek’s face had Stiles averting his eyes for modesty.

            He thought, momentarily, about snapping a photo of Derek then and there, but the moment felt so personal and raw that he couldn’t bring himself to take out the camera. Instead, he gave Derek the privacy he needed and took a tour of the loft to see what, if anything, had changed since he snuck in a few months ago after a really bad night.

            Since Derek had only gotten back the day before, not much had changed. The bed now had sheets on it, and the couch had a spot devoid of dust where Derek must have seated himself the night before. There was some food in the fridge that was running, but that was it.

            “Is this her camera?” Stiles heard Derek ask, and he assumed it was safe to look back at the man. His eyes were slightly reddened, like he’d been biting back tears, but he looked calm once more.

            “Yeah. It’s got—“ Stiles reached for the camera bag and took out the special lens and snapped it onto the camera. “—the lens she used for your family. Turns out Mom was a spark, like me. That’s how she got photos without the,” Stiles wiggled his hand in front of his eyes, “eye flare.”

            “Amazing,” Derek voiced, astonished, trailing his fingers over the camera in Stiles’ hands the same way Stiles had done the night he found it (was that only two nights ago?). Derek caught Stiles’ eyes, and Stiles caught his breath.

            “Thank you, Stiles,” Derek said, a smile tilting at his lips.

            “O-of course. They’re yours,” Stiles responded, and his fingers brushed against Derek’s when he lowered the camera back to his side. Derek’s eyes flickered to their brushed fingertips before looking back up at Stiles’ face. “I suppose they could be a type of Christmas present. Or birthday.” Derek looked surprised at the mention of his birthday, but Stiles soldiered on, not wanting to explain how he knew that little detail. “Or a New Year Present.”

            “People don’t give gifts on New Years,” Derek shot back quickly. His eyes strayed to Stiles’ lips for just a second, but long enough for Stiles to notice.

            Stiles licked his lips. “After—After Mexico. I missed you, you know.”

            “I know,” Derek replied. “I got your texts.”

            “You never responded,” Stiles said, voice slightly whiney.

            “I know. I’m sorry,” Derek apologized. “I needed time.”

            “To heal, I understand.” Stiles nodded. “But still...”

            “Still,” Derek repeated, smirking slightly. “I’m here now, though. I’ve taken my time, and I’m ready to be back and help.”

            Stiles tipped his head back and laughed. “Because you know there’s more insanity to come.” He reached back for the camera case and placed the device in there, snapping it closed before plopping it to the floor. He easily caught Derek’s eyes once again and was suddenly hit with a burst of courage.

            “You know what people do do? On New Years?” he blurted, and Derek startled at Stiles’ raised voice and change of subject.

            “What’s that?”

            Stiles swallowed thickly. “Kiss. At midnight.”

            Derek blinked twice and stepped back slightly, and Stiles’ hopes shattered. He averted his gaze to the floor and raised his shoulders in a subconscious defense. He shouldn’t have assumed.

            “It’s the second of January,” Derek finally spoke, catching Stiles’ attention. “And it’s not midnight.”

            Stiles took a deep breath. “True,” he wheezed out.

            “But I think I could make an exception.”

            Stiles snapped his head up in surprise and watched Derek approach him once again, a look of nervousness on his face.

            “You sure?” Stiles asked, eyes wide.

            Derek cupped his cheek and Stiles clutched the older man’s shoulder, pulling him close. “I’m sure if you’re sure.”

            “Three weeks,” Stiles replied, confusing Derek once again. “I’ll be 18 in three weeks.”

            Derek hesitated then, his hand twitching on Stiles’ cheek, and the younger man leaned into it instinctively. “Did—do you wait to wait? Till then?”

            “Oh _fuck_ no,” Stiles breathed, pressing his lips fiercely against Derek for just a second. “Don’t make me wait any longer than I already have,” he begged when he pulled back minutely.

            Derek didn’t argue any further after that, taking Stiles face back into his hands gently but with a purpose and kissed him again, for longer this time. Stiles certainly didn’t argue after that either.

            Later, after a trip to the store, Stiles and Derek placed their favorite photos into frames that they hung up and placed around the loft. In regards to the Hales last Christmas family photo, Derek set it on his bedside table.

            Stiles was able to coax Derek into taking a selfie with him with the special lens, even though it took a lot of maneuvering and trial and error to get them both in the frame because he couldn’t see the screen. The picture wasn’t perfect; Stiles didn’t get the photography talent from his mother that’s for sure. But he loved it all the same. And from the begrudged smile on Derek’s face he probably liked it too. But maybe the smile was because Stiles had kissed Derek into submission. Though, he couldn’t be too upset about the ends to the means.

**Author's Note:**

> You can see more of this insanity on my tumblr at redhoodedwolf


End file.
